Chels

Originally, I had planned to structure this post the same way I did for my Folk Tales of Ireland post and talk about my favourite stories and themes, but while reading The Folk Tales of Scotland, I discovered that many of the stories told are very similar to the fairy tales and rhymes that we’re already familiar with. I assumed that this meant they were the origins of the stories I knew, but on further research, it turns out that this wasn’t the case. It’s fascinating to me that such similar stories can arise in completely different communities – even down to specific details. 

Irish Folk Tales

Some of the stories in this collection feature Finn, known as Fionn in Irish folklore. They tell similar stories, including how Finn came to own his dogs, Bran and Sceólan, though in this story, the dogs were rescued from a giant’s house, along with infants that he had stolen from a couple, by Finn and his men. In Scottish folklore, Finn still has his wisdom tooth, however, the story of how he becomes wise is strangely not about Finn. Instead a very similar story to Fionn’s is told about Farquhar the Healer. Though, instead of the wise salmon, cooked unknowingly to be eaten, Farquhar is instructed to catch a white serpent and guard it as it is cooked. In his attempt to keep the snake and the steam inside the pot, his finger becomes wet with bree, and he cleans it using his mouth, instantly becoming all-knowing.

The stories of Finn have the clearest explanation for how they came to be known in two cultures. Before the invasions by the Romans, Angles, and Saxons, Britain and Ireland were inhabited primarily by the Celts, though this group consisted of many tribes and subcultures. The Celts were nomadic, and they likely came across other groups as they travelled, sharing stories through their shared language to be passed on through generations. Since folklore comes from the oral tradition, these stories naturally evolve as they are told and retold, and comparing the Irish and Scottish stories of Finn, especially in context with other folk tales, demonstrate how the stories became altered through each culture’s traditions.

The Irish tales of Fionn feature fairies, beautiful women, witches and warring tribes, whereas the Scottish stories include giants and kings, quests and feasts. In all the tales, Finn is a leader and a hero, both brave and wise, but the way that this is depicted depends on the cultural conventions of the storytellers.

Nonsensical Verse

There was an old lady who swallowed a fly … and it goes on. This is known as a cumulative song. The rhyming lyrics repeat, and with each verse, a new line is added, making the song increasingly nonsensical and more of a challenge to remember. The Folk Tales of Scotland features two cumulative songs.

The Flea and the Louse lived together in a house:

And as they shook their sheets,

The flea she stumbled and fell in the fire,

And now the Louse she weeps.

And so it goes. The pot-hook sees the Louse weeping and the Louse recounts the story, and it is passed along through objects in the house, until a flood arrives and sweeps away the house. The response to the flea’s death becomes increasingly extreme with each line added. In researching this rhyme, I discovered that it’s often attributed to the Brothers Grimm. Their version of the story is mostly the same, although they include a little girl who is also swept away by the flood, which feels more suited to the original Scottish tale, since so many feature very blunt, bleak endings.

The Wife and her Bush of Berries is another nonsensical rhyme. She instructs a kid (a young goat or a child – both are equally likely in this context, and my research was fruitless) to look after her house while she harvests her berries. He refuses, and sets the woman on a mission. She instructs a dog to bite the kid, a stick to beat the dog, a fire to burn the stick, and so on, until she offers a cat a dish of cream in exchange, which triggers the chain reaction – the cat kills the mouse, the mouse nibbles the rope, and eventually, the wife harvests her berries. Again, a similar story exists in English folklore – the Woman and her Pig, collected by Joseph Jacobs. Jacobs acknowledges the Scottish version of the story, and notes that cumulative tales are very popular in English folklore. These stories double as song or poetry, and as a memory game, and were likely popular with younger children and passed down through generations.

Rashie Coat and Cinderella

Rashie Coat is the daughter of a king who does not want to marry the man he has chosen for her. She seeks the advice of a hen-wife, who tells her to refuse to marry the man unless she is given increasingly hard to make coats, but each time, the king provides the coats. Instead, Rashie Coat leaves her father’s house, and works for another King as a cook. Similar to Cinderella, every Saturday, the household all go to church, leaving Rashie Coat behind. A fairy appears, and instructs her to wear the first of the coats and join them in church, and the fairy cooks in her place. While there, the king’s son falls in love with her. On the third Saturday, Rashie Coat leaves behind one of her slippers, and the King’s son retrieves it, announcing that he would marry the woman who fit in the slipper. Then, like Cinderella, they lived happily ever after.

It’s interesting, because there are so many variations of Cinderella throughout the world, especially in Europe, that Rashie Coat isn’t even considered one. Instead, there are so many differences that the story is only considered as a ‘persecuted heroine’ story – the same category as Cinderella. A persecuted heroine is clearly a popular trope, and it makes sense that so many stories include it, but it feels almost unbelievable that so many stories feature a forgotten slipper, and a prince who insists on finding his true love through the slipper, rather than her face. My guess is that the stories may not have been created independently by coincidence, but are all retellings and adaptations of one original story, tailored to the traditions of their own cultures, and altered through generations of storytelling before written records.

Whuppity Stoorie and Rumpelstiltskin

The Goodwife of Kittlerumpit is abandoned by her husband. She has very little in possessions, but she has a young son and a sow, and hopes for a litter of piglets. However, the sow becomes close to death, and a mysterious old woman approaches, offering to cure her sow in exchange for a bargain. It is only after curing the sow that the old woman, a fairy, reveals her price – the Goodwife’s son. She will take her son in three days unless the Goodwife can tell her her name. Much like in Rumpelstiltskin, it is the fairy’s folly that gives away her name, she sings that her name is Whuppity Stoorie, and the Goodwife overhears. The Goodwife decides to trick the fairy, pretending she hasn’t discovered her name, and weeping, until at the last moment, she reveals the fairy’s name, scaring her away. 

There are a few differences between the Scottish story and the Grimm version, namely that the son included in the bargain already exists. I always found it strange in fairy tales when deals were made regarding children yet to be born – why couldn’t they simply not have children, and escape the bargain?

The Scottish folk tales don’t only share characteristics with well-known fairy tales – they also seem to have a clear set of conventions that are included in most stories. The characters are usually Kings, Queens, servants, giants and animals that speak, and many come in threes. Three sons, three daughters, three giants to fight. There are three quests, deadlines of three days, and three items to be used. Kindness is rewarded, and cruelty is punished, often by the same characters in the same story. Stories end bluntly, whether happily or unhappily – I was surprised at the ending of the first story, ‘A young Prince came and married the King’s daughter, but the Queen’s daughter had to put up with an ill-natured cobbler, who beat her every day’ but by the end of the collection, I came to expect the abrupt endings.